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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28621422">Crossing Wires</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firebird963/pseuds/Firebird963'>Firebird963</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hades (Video Game 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Depression, F/M, Frost Punk AU, Mentions of Masterbation, Oneshot, Pining, Stream of Consciousness, Suicidal Thoughts, no betta we die like Zagreus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:14:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,518</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28621422</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firebird963/pseuds/Firebird963</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanatos didn’t live off worshippers, it wasn’t really something he needed. He was death incarnate, so as long as he was needed he’d be there, same as his mother and brothers. </p><p>He’d been doing this for so long he convinced himself that everything was fine. </p><p>Which led to a bit of neglect of his job, his most devoted follower left to suffer quietly, alone.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>One sided Thanatos/OC, One sided Thanatos/Zagreus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Crossing Wires</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based on an RP I'm doing with a friend, made this fic for them and for myself.</p><p>I'm in a bit of a mood and am trying to force myself to make the good chemical.</p><p>For context this takes place in basically a Frost Punk like timeline where it's the mid 2000s but technology has been kinda stuck due to a new ice age and is still very much steam punk Victorian early Edwardian style. Also people abandoned Christianity for the most part and embraced Hellenistic pantheon again.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thanatos didn’t live off worshippers, it wasn’t really something he needed. He was death incarnate, so as long as he was needed he’d be there, same as his mother and brother. </p><p>He’d been doing this for so long he convinced himself that everything was fine. </p><p>Even when Zagreus left and couldn’t be found, not on earth, Olympus, the Underworld, it was like he was plucked out of time itself.</p><p>Two thousand years give or take he was missing. Possibly less.</p><p>For a time he was furious, sad, Zagreus had abandoned him for who knows what. Now he was just numb. Tired. </p><p>Everything was the same. </p><p>Except worse.</p><p>The surface hurt his eyes, the Underworld hurt his heart.</p><p>There was no escaping the emptiness and pain.</p><p>So when he heard a soft voice praying to him, a call not for mercy or time. A call for him, for release. He ignored it. He ignored his duty. Because unless this mortal was actually dying there wasn’t anything he could do.</p><p>That was a lie.</p><p>There was plenty he could do.</p><p>He just didn’t want to do anything anymore.</p><p>Just watch the house his mother built crumble, watch the world freeze and mortals kill each other until it was all over.</p><p>--</p><p>Tessa was a weird sickly little girl, an albino pale as the moon and eyes that glistened like rubies. She loved her home, her family. Living as an acolyte priestess for lord Hades and his lady Persephone in their temple built into the mountain. It was more a fortress then a temple but such was surviving the endless winter.</p><p>Demeter had no mercy for mortals anymore so they had to give such mercy to each other.</p><p>They mostly worshipped the Chthonic Gods here but all were welcome as guests on the temple grounds. Not just other Hellenistic folks, no, this was a home for all who would wander and travel. Jews, Inuit, Christians and faithless. All who would bring peace and trade were family worthy of shelter. Worthy of love.</p><p>Because no matter who you are, and where you come from, all were at the mercy of death.</p><p>The temple was both a garden and a mass grave. The neighbouring city states would offer various treasures, resources, even gold, not that gold was as highly sought after at this time. All so they could perform the thankless task of caring for their honoured dead and dispose of the less honoured dead.</p><p>That was how Tessa was found, in the early morning of fall, a baby piled among the dead on the death train.</p><p>Seeing children aboard was nothing new, seeing one react to being scooped up, to squeeze the finger of the woman holding her. That was new.</p><p>The little miracle child, who looked dead, should have been dead, but was very much alive.</p><p>Though as she grew older she didn’t view her life as much of a miracle. More like a curse, like she had been forgotten by death itself.</p><p>She was a horribly sickly child. Constantly getting fevers. The worst of which during the endless winter nights. Even when she was up and about healthy was a strong word. She constantly had stomach pains, headaches. Walking up and down stairs exhausted her and her balance was laughable at best. She couldn’t even really walk on her own until two and a half years old. And once she was a teen she'd be using a cane regularly.</p><p>Like all the children there she grew up around death and decay, shown the cycle of how death brings new life in their cavern gardens. Kept warmed by the heat of the Underworld below. Taught how death wasn’t really the end, there was an entire afterlife waiting for them. An entire afterlife without needing to work, without pain.</p><p>The without pain part sounded really nice to little Tessa, the girl who only knew pain. What was supposed to give them all comfort if a bit of sadness gave the child hope.</p><p>Death would come for her one day.</p><p>Death would set her free.</p><p>And he had a name. A name she could call to. And call she did.</p><p>--</p><p>Her devotion to Thanatos was second to none, it came out of seemingly nowhere though her adoptive mother, despite being both a Christian and part of the temple security, could see this coming from a mile away.</p><p>Drawing butterflies didn’t draw too much attention from the other adults, carving them out of wood. Well many were more concerned about her cutting herself then the actual subject of her art.</p><p>Then she started practising more humanoid figures. Obsidian knife in hand her attempts were crude and simple at the start. None were good enough, even once it was clear what she was making was supposed to be humanoid. It was cute, and the Priests encouraged her to continue with this passion. Same as they encouraged her passion for reading and studying.</p><p>When the Inuit would come from further south they often brought treasures from the west coast. Pine and cedar, smoked salmon and pelts from other strange creatures like beavers and raccoons that didn’t live so far north of the Frost lands.</p><p>Tessa learned that ceder smelled amazing, and was beautiful when carved. She also learned that beads were a valuable trade commodity.</p><p>So she started turning her attention to that, whether it was soap stone or wood she carved down, drilled a hole, then painted all manner of beads. For the stone she’d use oil to make it shine brilliantly. She’d gotten good at it too.</p><p>That way the next time cedar came she could get all she wanted.</p><p>All she needed to show her devotion.</p><p>The first figure she made of Thanatos was quite simple indeed, the exact kind of quality work to expect from an eight year old. Naked but with no genitals to speak of. Legs firm together and arms barely defined against the torso. Dots for eyes and hair with rather rough lines to define texture but no other distinguishing facial features. Bird wings attached to the base as well his back. She seemed to have given up on trying to get them separated from the base based on all the scratch like marks where the bottom of the wings kissed the base.</p><p>Blood was stained into the figure, not an intentional sacrifice, just simply the natural result of letting clumsy now bandaged hands work with such sharp blades.</p><p>The Priests cooed over her work, it was all so adorable. Her little alter all set up, the shavings being burned to let the rich earthy smell fill the room. No resource was to go to waste. Even in the worship of the Gods. Though she was punctual with her regular gifts of berries and honeyed sweets.</p><p>Percy would listen to the child's little rambles, info dumping the stories she’d read, heard. Over and over again.</p><p>Seeing her with so much energy made her mother happy. It also worried her greatly that her idea of relief came with death. She didn’t want to crush her spirit</p><p>Luckily she wouldn’t have to.</p><p>--</p><p>Tessa caught some of the other children making fun of her ugly idols, how they were an embarrassment to the Gods. How they were probably the most effective method of keeping death away so he wouldn’t have to see it.</p><p>It broke her heart. Shattered her soul. She vowed to make it right.</p><p>So she burned them all, threw the idols into the furnace so Thanatos would never have to look upon such hideous figures again.</p><p>Percy caught her and scooped up the sobbing child.</p><p>“Why? You worked so hard on them?”</p><p>Tess told her everything.</p><p>Her fury was righteous as God striking down a sinner. The high Priestess and Priest got quite the earful, the punishment on the kids was just as swift. They had to get her ceder to replace everything that had been burned. Apologize. It was a lesson that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. The kind of cruel thing that would keep them up at night and make them cringe.</p><p>But even though she forgave them for their cruel words, the effect was permanent as a knife to the eye.</p><p>What she didn't know is Percy managed to save that first cedar figure she made, a little singed but still. She hoped to one day give it back to her. When Tessa was ready to have it back.</p><p>Still, from then on Tessa got a lot quieter about her devotion to Thanatos.</p><p>Keeping her gifts quiet in the corner, no more idols, no more talking about him unless asked. And even then she did all she could to hold back the sparkle in her eyes. Lest she bring those mocking voices, or worse, concern.</p><p>Was it such a crime to not want to exist anymore? To admire someone’s hard thankless work?</p><p>Apparently so.</p><p>--</p><p>As she got older, thirteen or fourteen puberty hit her as it seemed to hit all children. She was already well educated in the anatomy of people. Having seen the human body literally from the inside out.</p><p>But sex? Romance? Those were still strange concepts to come to terms with. Just the idea that one day she’d be an adult was as alien as rolling grassy fields and jungle rivers her mother spoke of far to the south.</p><p>Luckily for them they had plenty of books on such topics. Plus the magazines from the city states. Often containing episodic stories, drama, romance, adventure. Radio dramas too, gathering around the large radio to listen to dashing heroes fighting the Nightmares of the Frost lands.</p><p>Over time Tessa and the other children began finding certain niches they preferred. Some like Mike were very open about what they liked, which in his case was werewolves.</p><p>She found herself drawn to beauty and the beast type stories, they reminded her of Hades and Persephone, the peak romantic ideal for her. At least, until she discovered Death and the Maiden. An offshoot of Beauty of the Beast type stories.</p><p>It was like having an entire genre to herself and Gods was she thankful for it.</p><p>Even if she’d sooner set herself on fire then tell another soul why she was borrowing ‘death takes a vacation’ for the fifth time that year.</p><p>Just the idea that Death, Thanatos could love, would love something as small and meek as a mortal. It was almost cruel to put such thoughts in her head. Especially since even she was well aware she was hardly a maiden.</p><p>More like a corpse stretching a skin over their tired bones. So thin it brought worry to everyone around her. it wasn’t that she refused to eat it was just, she often wasn’t hungry, and forgot to get her rations.</p><p>She wanted to gain weight, to be more curvaceous like the pretty hard working women in magazines. It was just, at the same time, what was the point?</p><p>--</p><p>The first time she ever really had a concrete sexual fantasy it was of him. Before that she was always just trying to quietly figure herself out, figure out what to do to get that need off herself. Now it was easy. Now her mind could wander.</p><p>She imagined living in ancient Greece as it was shown in the paintings, imagined finding the God, her God Thanatos captured in Sisyphus' cruel trap. </p><p>She tried to break him free, she really did, but she was caught. Just a helpless weak little servant. Couldn't be killed, but also couldn't be left to tell the Gods about what's going on. So she was forced to share the Gods fate, chained up against him, left in a tiny dark box with nothing but each other.</p><p>His smooth voice trying to comfort her, assuring her none of this was her fault no matter how guilty she felt. Kissing away her tears. Holding her oh so tenderly.</p><p>It was all too much, he was too much to bare. Unworthy, she knew she was unworthy but Gods did she want his release so bad...</p><p>--</p><p>Tessa remembered sitting with other girls, Juno was talking about her dream wedding and man. The other girls would coo in agreement, offering their own ideas. Juno was the most beautiful girl at the temple in her opinion. The fact she would make an effort to include her was all the more reason to like her.</p><p>Even if Juno could be a little crass at times.</p><p>“What about you Tess! Do you have anyone you like?” Juno asked, gaining the entire group's curious gaze.</p><p>Who did the little albino like?</p><p>“Oh… I mean, I like you.” It wasn’t a lie.</p><p>Juno laughed.</p><p>“No like, boys that you’d want to court you. Like someone you could spend the rest of your life with?”</p><p>“Oh…” Tess hadn’t really thought about the other men or boys here. “I guess I don’t really plan on getting married.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>Because she wasn’t planning on living that long.</p><p>“Well, I’m so sick all the time, I probably can’t have kids like this. So it doesn't really sound fair to…”</p><p>Her voice drifted off, she could almost feel her ruining the mood, their eyes were like daggers. </p><p>Juno saved the conversation, chuckling warmly, “You have time to think about it.”</p><p>Tess nodded, gladly handing off the conversation and attention back on the princess in all but name.</p><p>It wouldn’t be until she was older she realized she viewed death the same way her peers viewed marriage and becoming adults. A chance for something new, something better, a little scary. But ultimately good.</p><p>What was taking him so long? Why wasn’t she good enough for Thanatos’ attention.</p><p>--</p><p>At fifteen she got in a horrible sledding accident, she’d often cry herself to sleep. After the incident, so many of her bones shattered, lungs imploded. She should have died in an instant. She shouldn’t be here. But she was. Her body aching as she healed despite everything. She hated it. She hated him.</p><p>She didn’t hate him though. She could never hate Thanatos. At least, not the idea of him she had made in her mind's eye. The ever diligent, ever kind.</p><p>A fear ran through her sore spine. Could a God ever get depressed?</p><p>Could Gods get lonely like her?</p><p>No, no he was too good, they were all too good to think like this. They could rape, and pillage and do great evils and goods.</p><p>But the crushing endless emptiness, where nothing matters and every time you sleep you hope you never wake up.</p><p>That had to be a mortal thing.</p><p>Because if it wasn’t, what was even the point of being a God?</p><p>Thanatos used to wonder the same thing. Of course, that was a long time ago. Before Zagreus was taken from him forever. His life, his blood.</p><p>He barely noticed that he now held the sweet earthy smell of cedar. Though the berries he had kept finding in his pocket were strange enough to get his attention. When did that start happening?</p>
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